Hope at Holly Cottage (21 page)

Frankie seemed to consider for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s a good idea. But Gilbert’s always so sorry afterwards. When he’s sobered up.’

‘Frankie, a decent man wouldn’t harm a woman no matter how drunk he is. In fact, a decent man wouldn’t get that drunk in the first place. I know you love Gilbert. As I did myself once. And you can go on loving him if you want to. But he’s
weak
, Frankie. And unless you want your life to be a complete wreck, you’ve got to do something about it!’

‘Oh, Anna, I wish I was as strong as you,’ Frankie breathed out on an enormous sigh. ‘I will think about it, though, I promise. But can we change the subject now?’ She suddenly sat up, her face brightening. ‘Could I play with Charlie, do you think?’

‘You’re welcome!’ Anna smiled back, deliberately putting Frankie’s problems to the back of her mind, for surely they had been sufficiently discussed. ‘He’s a mucky little toerag just now! But I’ll be bathing him shortly.’

‘Oh, can I help?’

‘Of course you can. If you don’t mind getting soaked. He splashes around like nobody’s business!’

She watched as Frankie took off her coat and, getting down on her knees on the rug, began building a tower with Charlie’s bricks which he then joyfully knocked down,
laughing in his little gurgling way while the strange woman happily retrieved them for him and began again. Anna met Queenie’s gaze over their heads. They both of them doubted that Frankie would take the slightest notice of Anna’s impassioned advice.

‘Well, I never! I’s ’ad more post arrive yere since you’m been living wi’ me than in my entire life.’

‘Get away with you!’ Anna chortled back. ‘For me, is it, then?’

‘No, as it ’appens.’ Queenie wagged her head proudly. ‘For me. Looks official, like. Typed brown envelope. Probably from a solicitors telling me I’s been left a fortune by some long-lost cousin in America, or summat.’

‘Or that your pension’s going up by a bob a week or some other vast amount.’

‘Yes, more like,’ Queenie grimaced as she sat down at the table.

‘Nothing for me, then? Eth’s not written since we went to Bert’s homecoming party, and that was three months ago.’

‘That were a grand day!’

‘Certainly was. I’ve never seen Eth so happy. And she’ll be spending every spare minute with Bert, so I shouldn’t
really expect a letter from her. No, it’s Frankie I’d like to hear from.’ Anna paused as she spread Marmite very thinly on a slice of toast and cut it into fingers for Charlie. ‘Not heard a dicky bird from her since she came here that day. I do hope she’s all right.’

‘So do I, cheel. A nicer maid you couldn’t meet. Just goes to show, mind,’ Queenie sighed ponderously. ‘All the money in the world cas’n bring you ’appiness.’

‘No. And you can’t live other people’s lives for them, either.’

‘Well, worrying about it won’t get us nowhere,’ Queenie stated decisively. ‘I’ll just read about my fortune,’ she winked, her pale eyes twinkling mischievously, ‘an’ then I’ll get some scones in the oven afore I opens up the tea room. Got to make a living some’ows!’

Anna carried the dirty plates over to the sink. It seemed perfectly normal to her now to have a sink with no taps. It was the same granite affair that had been put in when the cottage had been built over a hundred years previously. Anna placed the enamel washing-up bowl in it and then went to fetch some hot water in a jug from the range boiler.

‘Oh, my God.’

Queenie breathed in the words rather than speaking them, and Anna turned to grin over her shoulder and tease Queenie by suggesting that there really
was
a long-lost relative. But then she saw Queenie’s ashen face and realised it had been no exclamation of joy.

She dropped the dishcloth back into the water and crossed the room, drying her hands as she came. Queenie was staring down at the letter in her lap, the paper shaking so that it rustled ominously. Anna’s heart missed a beat, for surely something must be terribly wrong.

‘Whatever is it, Queenie?’ she dared to ask.

Queenie lifted her grey head. ‘Read it yersel’, cheel,’ she said, her voice hollow. But Anna had barely taken the sheet of paper when the elderly woman went on, suddenly fired with indignation, ‘Unin’abitable, my foot! What the ’eck does they think I been doing but living in the place these last sixty year or more, an’ my parents afore that? No sanitation, indeed! They needs to come an’ see it! Eat off my floor, you could, it’s so clean!’

‘Yes, I’m sure you could,’ Anna murmured. Her eyes were travelling cursorily over the letter, concentrating on taking in at a glance what it contained. But now it was her turn to be shocked and she rocked on her feet. ‘Oh, Queenie.’

‘’Ow dare they say it’s been condemned!’ came the heated reply. ‘Perfectly adequate, it is! We’m warm an’ cosy, bain’t us? An’ just cuz us ’as to fetch in the water, don’t mean to say—’

‘But it doesn’t meet current health regulations, it says,’ Anna broke in, shaking her head as the vile coldness of acceptance settled in her stomach. ‘And they are right,’ she said, talking even though she seemed to have no control over her speech. ‘We don’t have a flushing toilet, inside or out. There’s no foul-drainage system whatsoever, and our water does come from an outside tap.’

‘Well, they can change all that if they musts!’ Queenie crossed her arms beneath her bosom in the stubborn gesture Anna had seen before. ‘Queenie’s not moving from yere an’ that’s a fact. They can come in an’ modernise the place if they wants, but I’s not budging!’

Anna contemplated Queenie’s red, inflated face and her own heart plummeted to her feet. ‘It says here it’d be uneconomical to do that,’ she said lamely.

‘An’ what do
that
mean when it’s at ’ome?’

‘It means … it means it would cost too much. It means …’ She caught her breath, sucking in her lips before she ventured in a tiny voice, ‘We’re going to have to move out.’

‘Over my dead body—’

‘They’ve offered you a two-bed house in Princetown. With …’ She hesitated, dreading Queenie’s reaction. ‘With a little garden.’

‘An’ ’ow can I be doing with a
little
garden? ’Ow am I supposed to keep Dolly an’ Wilma in a
little
garden, an’ then there’s the’ens—’

‘You’ll have to … get rid of them, I suppose,’ Anna cringed. ‘But there’ll probably be enough room to grow some of your own veg.’

‘Get rid on them?’ Queenie was outraged, her cheeks puce with anger. ‘Oh, no, I won’t, cheel! They cas’n force me to move out—’

‘Unfortunately, I believe they can.’

‘An’ ’ave you seen the rent they wants to charge me for that there
nice little ’ouse
? Ten times what I pays yere! I cas’n afford that, even if you ’elps out. An’ you’ve got Charlie to feed an’ clothe, an’ there’ll be bills for water an’ electric light an’ God knows what else. An’ wi’out the garden to grow teddies an’ the like, an’ the café to bring in that little extra—’

‘That’s another thing,’ Anna interrupted before her courage failed her. ‘They say you shouldn’t be running the tea room.’

‘What!’ Queenie fumed, and Anna could see the pulse beating furiously beneath the wrinkled skin at her throat. ‘Well! My mother ran it all through the Great War, an’ she sold cigarettes to the troops training yereabouts, an’ all. So
’ow come they suddenly objects to it? Well, I doesn’t care what they says. I’s staying put, an’ I’s opening up the café today, an’ all!’

Anna watched, reeling herself and totally at a loss, as Queenie hurled herself to her feet and stomped towards the range. Anna closed her eyes with a sigh, returning little Charlie’s grin with a rueful curve of her mouth. She was shaken to the core. Living at Holly Cottage had been her salvation, one of the happiest times of her life. She simply couldn’t imagine leaving it.

‘Oooo.’

Queenie gave a muted gasp and suddenly swayed precariously, her gnarled hands outstretched as if to catch her balance. Anna sprang up like a jack-in-the-box, grabbing hold of Queenie and staggering under her weight. Instinctively, she managed to reach out one hand, pull one of the kitchen chairs behind Queenie and help her lower herself onto it.

‘Queenie, what’s the matter?’

‘Oh, I doesn’t know, cheel.’ Queenie took in a deep breath as if to calm herself. ‘I … I came over all funny, like. It sort of … went dark for a minute. Could you … could you fetch us some water?’

‘Of course.’ It was done in a trice and Queenie took the glass from her in a hand that still shook. ‘Queenie, will you be all right for a few minutes? Charlie’s strapped in his high chair so he’ll be safe enough. I’m going to the phone box to call Dr Franfield.’

‘Oh, no, you’m not!’ The old lady’s voice was adamant. ‘Queenie’s fine now. It were just a funny turn. I doesn’t want no doctor prodding us about.’

‘But, Queenie—’

‘No. Look, I’s proper clever now. If you calls the doctor, I won’t let ’en in.’

‘Oh, I really think—’

‘No! I be as right as rain now. I doesn’t want no one interfering in my life. I be quite capable o’ living in this yere
condemned ’ouse
, an’ I’ll not ’ave no one thinking otherwise!’

Her face was screwed up with such frightening ferocity that Anna caught her breath. She’d never seen Queenie look like that and it really scared her. She would have liked to defy her and fetch Dr Franfield anyway. But that might make matters worse, and she didn’t want that.

‘All right,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But if it happens again, I’m definitely calling the doctor. And we’re not opening the tea room today. You’re going to sit with your feet up and have a nice quiet day. Or as quiet as Charlie will let us,’ she added as the child began to bang his spoon on the high chair tray.

For a few seconds, Queenie looked at her daggers, but then Anna could almost see reason overtake her.

‘If you insists,’ she conceded. ‘One day won’t matter, I suppose. But I’m opening up tomorrow.’

Anna was hardly swamped with relief. She was sure Queenie should see Dr Franfield, and then there was the matter of the cottage. It really was a bombshell, and Anna felt the sudden anxiety over their future knock her sideways. Presumably she could go with Queenie – if she could be persuaded to move – for where else could she and Charlie go? Dear Lord, she had thought their idyllic life would reach on for ever. But now, heaven alone knew what was in store for them!

Charlie was running towards her on his sturdy little legs, his beaming face vibrant and alive and his eyes dancing with glee. Behind him, the green sea of the moor rose up to a sharp, dramatic tor on the skyline, and all was bathed in a shimmering, golden light that drifted down benignly from the azure dome of the sky.

Charlie ran into her arms and she swung him into the air, twirling him round so that his legs kicked joyously and unrestrained. Suddenly a thunderous crash exploded behind them, shattering the peace of the summer afternoon and bringing their game to a juddering halt. They both turned, their laughter dying. Holly Cottage, the haven of their lives, was in ruins, the tin roof gone, the massive stones rent asunder. The walls crumbling and covered in encroaching ivy.

Anna jolted awake, hardly daring to breathe. All she could hear was the familiar, lingering silence of the dead of night, too early yet for the sonorous chorus of the awakening birds. Her heartbeat slowed again. She was snugly in bed in the cottage, Charlie fast asleep in his cot. They were safe. At least, for the time being.

The shock of the letter they had received that morning slunk back into her thoughts. What were they to do? She would have to plead for time. Time to persuade Queenie that there was no alternative but to leave the beloved place that had been her lifelong home apart from the time she had spent away during the Great War. It would break her, but it seemed to Anna there was nothing else to be done, and they wouldn’t be far away. But to see the cottage fall into ruin as Anna had seen it in her dream, or perhaps even be demolished, might be more than the old lady could stand.

What was that? Yes, she had definitely heard a noise, like
someone moving about the cottage. No, more like lumbering around. And then a dull clatter as something hard and solid fell onto the flagstone floor. Then a long, agonised moan.

Anna shot out of bed and, a second later, she was in the kitchen. There was just enough light from a pale half-moon outside to make out the shape of a figure dressed in a long white nightgown slumped over one of the kitchen chairs which lay on its side on the floor.

‘Queenie!’ Anna heard a voice she didn’t recognise as her own scream into the night.

‘Chee … eel,’ Queenie rasped as Anna dropped on her knees beside her. The breath scraped in her throat, her arm clutched across her chest. ‘You … an’ Charlie … everything … to me.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Anna whispered quickly before a lump closed her throat. And then somehow, perhaps her mind grabbing at some concrete, practical action, she managed to say to Queenie, ‘Let’s get you more comfortable.’

She grasped her under the arms, every muscle straining as she dragged Queenie off the chair and across to one of the armchairs. But she simply wasn’t strong enough to lift her into it, so instead she propped her against it, stuffing loose cushions behind her.

‘Stay there. I’m going for the doctor.’

‘Not … going … nowheres,’ Queenie’s voice, suddenly so old, gasped, and Anna caught her slow, muted cry of pain.

She sprang to the door. Oh, good Lord, did she have the right money for the phone box? But, oh, yes! Olive and Clifford had just had a telephone installed! That would be so much quicker than running along the road to the public call box.

She stumbled, barefoot, to the lodge, trying to hold onto reality as her mind reeled in panic. She rang, banged with all her might, on the door, her efforts echoing through the night. Oh, come
on
!

Suddenly the wood yielded and she pulled back. A bleary-eyed Clifford opened the door, and in the glimmer of moonlight, Anna saw his scowl deepen when he saw who it was.

‘What the hell do
you
want at this hour?’

But Anna ignored his attitude. ‘Queenie. I think she’s having a heart attack. Can you ring the doctor?’

Clifford’s expression at once changed. ‘Of course. What’s his number?’

Anna told him, and as he picked up the receiver in the hall behind him, she dashed back to the cottage, her heart knocking against her ribs. She fell on her knees, almost faint with fear as she realised Queenie’s eyes were closed.

‘Queenie?’ she squealed.

‘Yes, cheel. Queenie’s yere.’ But she didn’t open her eyes.

‘Is it any better?’

‘A little,’ Queenie groaned, and Anna knew she was lying.

‘I’ll light the lamps. The doctor’s on his way.’

She tore herself from Queenie’s side, and yet it was a relief to have something to do. Her fingers trembled with the matches, and it took her twice the normal time to have the lamps alight, flooding the room with their familiar smell and casting a flickering, jaundiced glimmer on the walls. She shivered, suddenly aware that she was still only clad in her nightdress. She must have given Clifford quite a fright, she mused almost hysterically as she hurried into Queenie’s room. She dragged the eiderdown from the bed and took it
into the kitchen and tucked it around Queenie’s tense form, as she must be cold as well as in such pain, even though the summer night was mild.

‘Thank you, cheel.’

Her voice was barely a whisper, shaky, weaker than before. Anna’s stomach was clamped in a vice, her teeth chattering, so cold herself. It must be the shock. She crept into her own bedroom, careful not to wake Charlie, and retrieved her dressing gown. Queenie? Yes, still there, answered her question with a muted grunt. Stoke up the range, get the room warm.